


Mechanical

by Dominatrix



Series: 120 Raindrops on the window [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Scandal In Belgravia, F/M, Spoilers for ASiB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly can't help but think of Mycroft as a robot. Is there any chance he can prove to be different?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mechanical

The silence after Sherlock had left without another word seemed to want to crush Molly. Doubtfully she observed the face of the woman in front of her – well, what was left of it. Molly couldn’t even say if she had been beautiful. It was horrible.

After a few seconds of this heavy silence she turned to Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother. He didn’t resemble him at all, and their behaviour differed from the base. Sherlock at least sometimes tried to be friendly to her. Mycroft had the aura of a man who could make the world collapse with a single snap of his fingers, and was fully aware of this.

“How did he recognize her?” she asked his brother, a confused expression on her pale face. He just smiled at her. It was a sneering smile which comforted a stupid little girl. It was a smile she only knew too well.

Mycroft was just about turn when Molly spoke. “Hey!” Mycroft turned around to her again and looked at her in surprise. He surely didn’t expect that. And to be honest Molly didn’t expect that of herself. But all this was just the drop that made the barrel flow over.

“You won’t leave me standing here. I asked you a question, and even if you don’t want to answer it, I surely deserve at least a goodbye.”

He took another step towards her so that just the bier on which Sherlock’s friend…companion…whatever…lay, was between them.

A cold shiver ran over Molly’s spine. The gaze of his eyes was ice-cold when Mycroft looked at her attentively, seemed to analyse every detail of her face without coming to a decent conclusion. At least Molly couldn’t recognize a movement in his expressionless face.

He almost seemed to her like a machine, and now the recognized the similarity between Sherlock and his brother. Both of them had the frightening talent to understand people with one glance, and Molly had to resist the urging desire to turn her gaze away nervously. But she didn’t give in. She stood.

“Miss Hooper” the cool voice of the man in front of her pierced the ice-cold room. She didn’t say a word, just cleared her throat and squared her shoulders a bit. This had to be answer enough. Inside she was prepared for every insult, for every possibility.

“Would you consider having a coffee with me?” She was completely overwhelmed. For a long moment she just stared at him, her eyes a bit narrowed, a mistrusting expression on her face. She searched for indicators that he was just making fun of her, that he didn’t take her serious, that he was like everybody else. Nothing.

Almost desperately she tried to find at least a bit about him by looking at him. She didn’t manage too well. He was dressed to the nines, but without too many peculiarities, and she wouldn’t even be able to make out his age clearly. She knew that he was Sherlock’s older brother, but she couldn’t guess a certain age. He stayed absolutely serious and bared her observation without batting an eye. In the end Molly gave up.

“I…I’m just fetching my coat.”

She whirled around too fast to see the short flash of joy in Mycroft’s cold eyes.


End file.
